I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho. I do not own Placebo.

"Soul mate dry your eye

'Cause soul mates never die"

~ Placebo

Silent night crept in through the windows. Outside, mingling with the dark there were snowflakes. Each was grey in the dark, voluptuous and light, falling in a thick carpet from the sky. Quiet heavy was settling into the city. Street lamps had become odd blue fogs and houselights only yellow ghosts. Wind snuffed around the corners of vague buildings making swirling wraiths from the hovering snow.

No one was outside; it was late, even for a city. Lights were only on in halls and the rooms of insomniacs. Such was the case for one red haired dreamer. His bed was under a window, a curtain drawn to the side of the window usually used to keep the streetlight out from his eyes, but tonight there was no such problem. Still eyes clamped shut in a body turned on its side. A blanket was turned loose on the floor as a result of frenzied kicking and ruby hair was strewn across a face and pillow in bed, knotted. A mouth was drawn tight in a frown, the lower lip was being bitten. Kurama was having a nightmare.

Somewhere below his window, there was the plinking noise of gems on stone. A trail of hiruseki stones was being buried in the snow. One more had just fallen fresh on his doorstep and through the glass and concrete he heard it. Eyes like fire emeralds had gone from clamped shut to wide open and staring. Images from the dream were still pounding in his mind, but the issue at hand was more pressing. He had promised to protect her.

Rising from the bed Kurama fumbled across the room for a light switch. The same yellow ghost light as from the other homes invaded his dark asylum. There was a coat on the rack by the door that he grabbed as he slipped into worn sneakers. Opening the door, he slipped into the coat. He patted the pocket for keys and found them, then he closed the door.

Three flights of stairs led down onto street level. He thought more about the dream as he stepped through the dark halls and down the dim stairs. Then he thought about who lay waiting for him outside. There was no surprise in him as he stepped into the foyer and saw blue through the frosted glass of the doors. Standing for only a moment in the sudden cold of the airspace, he opened the door and looked upon her. Cold wind lashed at him and caressed her.

Yukina's garnet eyes shone with tears in the half light. As she blinked one fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek and then fell as a pearly sphere to the snow on the door stoop. She thrust herself at Kurama, arms wrapping around his shoulders. He circled his own arms around her slight waist and drew her close. She cried and a shower of stones fell from her eyes. So they stood embraced in the cold night, obscured by snow. It was soothing for both just to have such closeness after so long and such vicious images that had passed before them both. They, as the night had come, had become one and separate still.

Kurama reached his hand up to stroke her hair, and after a few strokes she drew back. They released each other and he fished keys from his pocket to let them both back in. So she followed him up the three flights of dark steps and down the dim halls until they reached Kurama's room. He pulled out the keys once more and unlocked his door. Holding it open he let Yukina in and then followed closing and bolting the door behind him. Both removed shoes and Kurama his coat. She stood awkwardly by the door for a moment until he pulled two chairs forward from the miniature kitchen. Gesturing to one, he offered her a seat and after she was settled he went to the thermostat and set it to a lower temperature.

He went into the kitchen and filled a kettle and then set it on one of the burners on the two burner stove. Then he went and settled himself in a chair opposite Yukina. They both surveyed the small apartment. It was tiny, one room save for the bathroom. The bed was in a corner only separated by a diagonally set partition made of wood and cloth. Next to that started counter space with an imbedded sink that gave way for a stove and a small refrigerator then continued again for only a short space before it met the door. On the short wall section be for the room took another corner was the coat rack and small table for miscellaneous things. On that next corner was a small couch and bookshelf with a simple stereo on it. Soon after the bookshelf the wall turned again to the same wall the bed was against and the window in.

Raising her arms and setting hands palms up, Yukina stated into the quiet, "This is nice." Her voice was broken from the tears. Kurama nodded. Silence lingered for a minute and the only noise was the water heating in the kettle and the song of the wind outside. "I dreamt. Just now. He said-- he said he was coming back." It was Yukina's turn to nod. "How long has it been?" she asked. Quietly, he calculated, "Almost ten."

"What do you think he has been doing?"

"No one knows. We can't even trace where he is now."

"I had the same dream. I couldn't see where he was Kurama, but it wasn't as far as we all think." The water in the kettle was whistling and pouring steam into the air. Wordless, he rose from his chair and went to tend the kettle. He placed it one the cold burner and got down two pottery mugs and a box of tea from the cupboard. "Would you like any?"

"Yes thank you," she replied. He filled the cups with the boiling water and then set a teabag in each. He then covered them to keep the flavor and let them sit on the counter. Kurama then returned to his chair. Yukina searched his downcast face. She analyzed his depressing nature; he was deeper than normal. Almost inverted. "It has been hard then?"

"There were time I'd rather he died then have left," contempt tinted his voice.

"He still feel for us all, but it is a tough for him." Kurama said nothing, demeanor still withdrawn. Yukina sighed and got up and went to the counter. "Do you have anything in you tea?"

"No," he replied jaggedly. She uncovered the mugs and fetched out the tea bags and set them in the sink not knowing where the garbage can was. Picking up the mugs, she walked back to him and handed one to him. He sipped it quietly as she seated her self and blew on her tea. Frost fringed the cup lip. After she had had a long sip herself she said, "He cared for you too you know."

"There are times I've doubted it."

"You shouldn't, Kurama." Both sipped and quiet reigned again. Thoughts were spinning together in the room and words were trying to come out. "I-- attempted suicide." setting the mug on the floor he pulled up his right shirt sleeve and pointed out a red scar on his wrist. "It was right here," he gestured to a point halfway through, "that I realized he wouldn't ever accept my death that way. It wasn't noble, it was the weak way out."

 "You are nothing without him and he is nothing with out you. Kurama you are one of the only people that he really respects and trusts."

"If you have nothing to die for what do you have to live for?"

"You still have a life worth living," she said sternly. Shaking his head he picked up the mug once more and wrapped his hands around it.

"In the dream," Yukina started, "did he say anything else?"

"Yes, but I don't think that it was really him speaking to me. I think it was just my own foolish desire coming through my subconscious."

"He didn't lie. When he said he cared about you." Kurama cringed. He knew that those words would never pass those lips so long as he lived. He didn't even bother to hope.

"Why did you come tonight?"

"That is what he told me. He told me to be here."

"Why were you crying?"

"Wouldn't you cry if someone you had denied existence to for ten years suddenly appeared in you mind?" It was true. He hadn't been mention in so long. He was so gravely injured when he left that most had taken him for dead after five years. He had never been away so long.

"So he said to be here? And you don't know why." Kurama looked at Yukina. Somehow, she could penetrate the one that confused them all. He wondered if it was because of their blood bond. He wished he had had that bond so strong ten years ago. He felt like he had driven him off, but he knew that wasn't true. There had been a choice made, and he had gone off wounded knowing the risks. Sighing Kurama sipped more tea. The room was growing cold, but there was a warmth at his shoulder. Yukina was looking off over his head and looked as through she too were suppressing something.

Then Kurama's shoulder was burning. It was as though an ember had just been set on his shoulder. He went to brush at it and found himself touching flesh. Something bright stirred in him and he let his hand fall over the now welcome warmth of a hand. Yukina smiled and another gem escaped her eye and clattered to the floor.

"You've grown weak, Kurama," Hiei said. Kurama smiled and let a tear, ten years building, fall from his own eye.

"Hiei." The hand tightened in affirmation on his shoulder.